


All I Want

by doctornemesis



Category: One Piece
Genre: Barebacking, Dom/sub Undertones, Fingerfucking, First Time, Late Night Conversations, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornemesis/pseuds/doctornemesis
Summary: Thatch sighed, rolling over onto his back, weary of his own intrusive thoughts. He tried to relax his mind, attempting to soothe himself back to sleep, but fate had other plans in mind for him that night. A sharp, loud series of knocks rapt against his door—urgent. He launched himself out of bed, believing them to be under attack and in need of aid. All hands on deck.Except, that wasn’t the case at all.





	All I Want

 Thatch found that a good night's rest was near impossible to come by on the Moby Dick. A pirates way of life did not come with a lot of opportunities for downtime, period. If a few hours sleep happened to present itself, he knew better than to waste it. The truth of this only grew and expanded the older he got, fatigue hitting him like an oncoming sea train. Ace’s youth and seemingly boundless energy incited his ire as well as stirred his envy, he didn’t know how Marco could keep up with the kid, but suspected that it might have something to do with his being an actual mythical creature.

 

  The lucky bastard.

 

  Truthfully, he was happy for them. Thatch could never hope to look down upon something as wonderful as true love. If anything, his irritation stemmed from his own personal woes when it came to the realm of romance. His cowardice was not fit for a man of his repute, but Izo was a ferocious creature he could never hope to tame. To embrace one such as the gunslinger was akin to embracing a strong gust of wind—futile.

 

  In his dreams, Izo always welcomed him with a warm embrace and a languid, slow building  kiss that left both of them breathless and aching for more.

 

  Thatch sighed, rolling over onto his back, weary of his own intrusive thoughts. He tried to relax his mind, attempting to soothe himself back to sleep, but fate had other plans in mind for him that night. A sharp, loud series of knocks rapt against his door—urgent. He launched himself out of bed, believing them to be under attack and in need of aid. All hands on deck.

 

  Except, that wasn’t the case at all.

 

  On the other side of his door resided the man who haunted both his waking as well as his sleeping mind. Izo’s eyes were wide, wild almost—his face struck with the utmost terror as he invaded Thatch’s personal quarters, pushing him back. His soft, cool hands held firm against Thatch’s naked, hairy chest.

 

  “Izo, what’s wrong?”

 

  “ _Shh_ ,” he hissed, pressing a long, slender finger firmly against his painted lips, his dark eyes narrowed as he turned to close Thatch’s door, latching it in place.  

 

  Thatch couldn’t help but to notice that Izo’s usually pristine appearance laid unraveled just as his long, endlessly black hair did over a narrow shoulder. The red kimono with black and white patterns stitched in looked as though it were thrown onto his person in a panic with haphazard hands. The larger of the two tried not to fidget as those intense, all knowing eyes of his took him in, studying him intently as Thatch lit a small lamp that hung near his desk.

 

  “I didn’t realize how long your hair was,” Izo murmured, and Thatch tried not to appear too flustered at the comment. The only time anyone ever got to see his hair out of its usual pompadour style normally occurred when someone with a Devil Fruit ability went overboard.

 

  Thatch happened to be one of the strongest swimmers upon the Moby Dick, his brawny figure and powerful legs made him swift and resistant to even the most turbulent of currents.

 

  “Uh, yeah,” he said, at a loss for words as he rubbed the back of his neck with a shaky hand in a nervous gesture. “I was, uh, laying down so I brushed it out.”

 

  “Mmm.”

 

  “So, what’s going on?”

 

  “Some of the others have taken it upon themselves to prank one another. Someone spilled to them that I’m deathly afraid of snakes,” he said, and Thatch grimaced, putting two and two together with relative ease.

 

  “That’s not funny.”

 

  “It’s hysterical, but I’m not in the mood for it right now. I’m tired, and I want to be able to rest in peace. That said, I knew you’d be a safe bet.”

 

  Thatch’s cheeks warmed, pleased that Izo felt comfortable enough with him to seek out his assistance in a time of need. “Well, um, you can stay here if you want me to go scope out your cabin for you,” he offered.

 

  Izo snorted at that, steadily approaching Thatch whose bed made escape impossible. “Don’t be absurd,” he said, a cocky hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of a full mouth. “I’ll be staying here tonight.”

 

  “Okay, but—”

 

  “And so will you. So, pick a side of the bed you most like, and lay down.”

 

  “Izo—”

 

  “Do you refuse me?”

 

  Thatch swallowed, hard. His most precious person in his most precious space together with him for the entire night? “No,” he said, at long last, having regained the necessary functions required for speech. “You know I could never refuse you, Izo.”

 

  “Good.”

 

  Thatch didn’t have a preferred side he slept on, his large and bulky frame making the idea of such a thing almost laughable to him. He settled down on the side closest to the wall, contending that he wouldn’t embarrass himself that way by accidentally rolling off the bed and onto the floor in the middle of the night. Izo didn’t hesitate to join him, untying the sash that secured his kimono in place, the silky material slid down over his shoulders somewhat, revealing more and more of that pale, pale flesh that haunted Thatch’s most debauched of fantasies.

 

  “Oh, I forgot to blow out the wick,” he said, sitting up only to have Izo cast him back down.

 

  “Let me.”

 

  If he thought that the light being extinguished would ease his rapid heartbeat, he had been sadly mistaken. The surrounding darkness only served to ignite his nerves further, the unknown opening up like a void all around them, threatening to consume him at any moment. Izo held no qualms about invading his personal space, his slender figure commanding much more of a presence than Thatch ever expected from him.

 

  A lopsided grin overtook his features then, amused to no end by the other man’s larger than life persona. The likes of which served Izo well, both as a pirate and as a commander. It didn’t hurt that he was brazen enough to pull a gun or two on those who dared to try and test his authority simply because of his more feminine qualities.    

 

  In fact, he’d stolen Thatch’s heart the first day they met when Izo threatened to shoot him down like a dog for one reason or another, going so far as to cock it at the brunette’s head. Marco scolded Izo to hell and back for that, but Thatch remained suspended in what appeared to be shock, but truly, he knew it to be love at first sight. Izo drove him mad, pushing at any and all limits he possessed, but Thatch often gave just as good as he got.

 

  Tit-for-tat.

 

  It made for an interesting existence.

 

  “You were gone for quite a while this time,” Izo said, snapping Thatch out of his musings.

 

  “Oh, yeah. The island we were trying to negotiate with went on for much longer than first expected.”

 

  “I’m surprised,” he said, rolling over onto his side, one of his long, pale thighs exposed to the cool night air as dark eyes peered up at Thatch who tried not to squirm as a result. “I’ve grown accustomed to the food you make. I don’t want anyone else’s.”

 

  Thatch forgot how to breathe for a moment, his heart stalling in his chest. “Well, I’m back now,” he said, grasping at straws as he tried to play it cool. “Any special request you’d like to make for breakfast tomorrow?”

 

  “I heard a group of them pulled out their weapons on you,” he said, and oh. Thatch thought he told Marco and Ace not to breathe a word of that to anyone save Pops himself.

 

  “Yeah, they did, but it’s not really that much fun unless you’re the one doing it,” he said with a huff of laughter, hoping to ease some of the tension that settled between them all of the sudden.

 

  “I would have killed them,” Izo said, placing a delicate hand across Thatch’s chest, right above his heart.

 

  Thatch tried not to think about how perfect the other’s hand felt, or how content it made him. He didn’t want to fall prey to an apex predator, and Izo proved to be as wild as he did unpredictable—ready to pounce at a moments notice. If he were to die, at least he’d subcomb before such a beautiful, striking face.

 

  “I was able to talk my way out of it.”

 

  “You’re certainly affable, but there will come a time when you simply cannot do that. When talking won’t work…,” Izo said, trailing off for a moment before catching himself. “You really do need to be more weary of people, Thatch. I won’t always be around to take people out for you.”

 

  “Izo,” Thatch started, then stopped, attempting to wrap his mind around the other man’s words. “Were you worried about me?”

 

  Izo rolled over then, facing away from him, and all Thatch could do was sigh. Izo proved to be as unpredictable as the weather, and on the Grand Line, that said something. He loved him still, more than anything.

 

  “Goodnight, Izo.”

 

  “Night.”

 

  A pause.

 

  “Thatch?”

 

  “Hmm?”

 

  “I want natto with a fried egg on rice…”

 

  Thatch chuckled at that, a pleasant warmth filling his chest. “Miso on the side?” he asked, even though he knew the answer already.

 

  “Yes, please.”

 

  “Anything for you.”

 

  The next time Thatch’s eyes opened, they did so out of confusion and a touch of morbid curiosity. The confusion he felt stemmed from a solid weight settling upon his lower waist, warm and unfamiliar. Thatch blinked, and then blinked again, a breathtaking sight coming into focus before him. He thought himself to be lost in the most realistic of dreams, but that couldn’t be. The feeling of Izo’s legs draped upon either side of his lap felt all too real, his expensive kimono cast aside as though it meant nothing to him, halfway off the bed they now shared.

 

  “‘Zo?”

 

  “I know you like me, Thatch, but I’ve always been curious as to the why of it,” he said, ignoring the other’s bewildered expression as he traced the scar that marred the left side of his face with a gentle touch. “Is it simply because you long for a woman’s charm, and I’m the closest to it?”

 

  “I’m gay, Izo,” Thatch blurted out, unable and unwilling to censor himself. “I don’t have any interest in women, nor do I think you resemble one. I know that you’re a man, and if you’ve run into a situation like that with anyone on this ship I would happily talk to them...with my fists.”

 

  Izo smiled from ear-to-ear at that, like a pleased cat who’d cornered its prey and planned to take its time toying with the frightened creature before ripping its throat out with its bare teeth. “I can’t find it in me to loathe you, and I can’t stand it,” he said, rocking his hips somewhat to gauge the other’s reaction to him. “In fact, I find that I quite wish to devour you whole.”

 

  “I can’t,” Thatch said, hating himself in that moment as he felt his arousal becoming much more prominent under Izo’s ministrations. The inherent sex appeal that clung to him did so like a second skin, and it made Thatch weak, but he needed to be honest about what he wanted. “I can’t just have a one night stand, Izo. I like you a lot, and I would never be able to get over only having you for one night. I’d rather not have you at all then endure the rest of my life only having a one-night stand.”

 

  Izo leaned forward then, cupping one of Thatch’s cheeks into the palm of his hand, their lips a breadths width apart. “Why don’t you show me how much you care for me, Thatch?” he said, his eyes lingering upon Thatch’s mouth.

 

  “Izo—”

 

  “If you believe this to be wholly one sided, then you’re an even larger fool than I try to make you out to be,” he said, beckoning Thatch to come closer, to become ensnared in the web he had weaved just for him.  

 

  “I want to kiss you.”

 

  “And I would like for you to do much more than that.”

 

  Thatch caved in, his resolve unraveling as he threaded his fingers through thick black hair he’d only ever dreamed of, crushing Izo’s mouth against his own. Izo moaned into the bruising press of lips on lips, and Thatch wanted nothing more than to drink from his body, the lust that rolled off of him in waves. He reversed their positions in a sudden display of strength, delighting in the soft gasp it wrenched forth from Izo whose eyes were half-lidded and lips pursed as Thatch stole another kiss, deepening it as Izo’s arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies aligning like the most splendid of stars.

 

  “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, groaning as Izo tugged his bottom lip in between pointed teeth.

 

  “Then show me.”

 

  Thatch’s long held resolve snapped, his hands eager to please, to show Izo what he struggled to say out loud. “Roll over,” he said, no, demanded, leaving Izo no room to argue.

 

  Izo said nothing, but he obeyed nonetheless, his body trembling as he turned over. The way his back arched drew Thatch’s lustful gaze to the lining of Izo’s spine, making him eager to map the span of it with both teeth and tongue. Thatch desired nothing more than to worship Izo’s body—his temple—as he both ravished as well as ravaged it, and he intended to do just that, but there were a couple of things that his destined paramour needed to know.

 

  “Izo, before we continue, I need to let you in on a couple of things,” he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Izo’s ear, pleased when the other turned into his touch instead of away from it. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way.”

 

  “And what does _your_ way entail?”

 

  Thatch looped the other’s hair around his hand in threes, wrenching Izo’s head back with a slight grunt, enticed by the sudden moan that poured forth from ruby red lips. “Absolute control,” he said, and he meant it. His sexual appetites were vastly different from what others expected from a romantic sap such as himself.  

 

  The two concepts were not mutually exclusive, he knew, but he understood that certain people would have certain exceptions of him that he would not be able to meet. If Izo didn’t wish to comply with his wishes, Thatch needed to know now while he still hadn’t crossed an important line. He would never push Izo to do something he felt uncomfortable with.

 

  “I suspected as much,” Izo purred, a full body shiver wracking through his slender frame as he ground his hips back. “However, don’t expect me to be a picture perfect submissive because I’m not. I’m a brat, through and through.”

 

  Thatch chuckled at the revelation, relieved that Izo didn’t turn away from him or his sexual proclivities, but embraced them instead, intertwining them with his own. “What are your limits, if any?” he inquired, distracted by the feel of Izo’s bare ass pressing against his clothed crotch, making the small barrier feel almost insurmountable in nature.

 

  “If I don’t like it, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Izo said, giving Thatch a devious little smirk. “I just want you to fuck me as hard and as fast as you can right now. Everything else can wait.”

 

  “You say the sweetest things,” he whispered, his mouth pressed against the shell of Izo’s ear. “I’m going to really enjoy fucking the life out of you, ‘Zo.”

 

  “Promises, promises.”

 

  Thatch chuckled at that, but he wouldn’t let the other believe that he could get away with such blatant disrespect. Before Izo became aware; however, Thatch had reared his hand back, delivering a ruthless blow to the smaller man’s backside; one after another after another until Izo’s cheeks were painted just as red as his lips. The raspy cry he emitted drew Thatch in, one of the most magnificent sounds Thatch had ever heard in his life.  

 

  “ _Thatch_!”

 

  “If you’re not careful, someone might hear you,” he warned, the amusement clearly written in his voice as he massaged Izo’s abused cheeks tenderly with the palms of his large hands.

 

  Izo harked a low laugh at that, contrite as he exclaimed, “Then let them hear!”

 

  Thatch wouldn’t argue with that notion, not by a long shot. Instead, he tilted Izo’s head to the side, imparting as much passion and force as he could muster into a hard pressing of lips on lips. Izo returned the kiss tenfold, deepening it with a coy swipe of a restless, elongated tongue. Thatch’s thoughts were all over the place, his senses having gone completely haywire, drowning in every aspect of Izo’s being. In fact, Thatch found himself scrambling to decide what to do next—so many opportunities opening up before him like stars unfurling in the night sky.

 

  The simpler the better, he mused, guided by his baser instincts as he pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of Izo’s neck, trailing downward as he followed the path laid out across his spine, reaching over the side of his bed for the tin of lubricant he knew to still be there where he’d last left it. Izo’s breath hitched the lower Thatch reached, his body twisting and turning under the chef’s strong hold. His pristine flesh always looked to be that of freshly fallen snow, but it seared the sensitive skin of Thatch’s lips. Tingling them in the most addictive of manners.  

 

  “Thatch, you’re teasing incessantly at this point!” Izo exclaimed, hissing with a shuddering sigh as Thatch sunk his teeth into the left side of his buttocks.

 

  “You’re body doesn’t seem to mind all that much,” Thatch said with a gruff sort-of laugh, and though Izo had a point, he was enjoying himself immensely, far too much not to rile him up just a tad bit further.

 

  There was a point to his madness, though, he swore it.

 

  Thatch placed a soothing kiss over the torrid bite he had laid across Izo’s tender flesh, separating his cheeks with delicate, if but insistent hands. Izo cried out, his body jerking forward as he threw himself face down into the multitude of pillows sprawled out beneath him, clutching at them for dear life as he groaned in lust-filled despair. Thatch enjoyed what havoc he wreaked upon the smaller man’s body with the most minuscule of touches, savoring every hitch, shudder and sigh Izo could not curb.

 

  “You ready?”

 

  “I’ve been ready!”

 

  Izo could be downright demanding when he wanted to be, and the elder of the two could never seem to get enough of it. That said, Thatch would soon reap the benefits of watching Izo lose every ounce of restraint he possessed. Thatch took his time as he spread Izo’s alluring cheeks apart, enticed by the crescent moon-shaped birthmark located on the upper right portion of his buttocks. Bewitched, he gave it a sharp nip, thrilled by the way in which Izo fidgeted as a result. Izo then gasped and shuddered as Thatch used the width of his hot and heavy tongue to lay siege to Izo’s twitching hole, delighting in the full-body tremor the action wrought.

 

  “Thatch!”

 

  “ _Shh_ , just relax, ‘Zo,” he murmured, giving an exploratory pressing of his tongue, much deeper than the lick prior. Thatch enjoyed what chaos he inflicted upon the smaller of the two with the most minuscule of touches, savoring every hitch of his breath and shimmying of his hips. “You ready?”

 

  “I’ve been ready!”

 

Thatch took his time as he spread Izo’s delectable, supple cheeks apart, trailing the width of his tongue over the other’s heated hole, delighting in the quiver that the action produced.

 

  “Thatch _, ah_!”

 

  “Just relax,” he murmured, giving a press of his tongue, diving further as the rings of muscles began to relax around the intrusion. “Let me enjoy the taste of you.”

 

  “You’re doing much more than simply tasting me,” Izo gasped, moaning not even a moment later when Thatch delved his tongue deeper, opening him up wider as he secured the tin he’d set aside.

 

  “You know I have an affinity for exotic cuisines.”   

 

  Izo snorted at the tasteless quip for what it was, but his chastisement didn’t last long as a drawn-out moan pursed through kiss-bitten lips as an eager finger joined an already ravenous tongue. His hips jerked forward as Thatch lavished his entrance with a persistent tongue, using his free hand to jerk Izo’s achingly hard and neglected cock off in unison between beautifully splayed legs, keeping his grip . A full-frontal assault laid sieged against the slender man, and all Izo could do was to hang on for dear life. Izo made a series of sounds unlike anything Thach had ever heard before, and it was a sound the chef could only hope to hear more of in the future. Thatch wanted the other man to think only of him; _be_ his, and he would go to any lengths to ensure its coming true.

 

  “Thatch, please! How long do you plan on dragging this out for?! My poor body can’t take much longer.”

 

  “Then everything’s going according to plan then, ‘Zo,” he said with a whimsical sort of chime, adding a second finger as he thrust his tongue further inside, using said muscle to ravish Izo’s sensitized inner walls.

 

  Izo’s back arched like the sleekest of panthers, his fingernails like razor-sharp claws clutching at the sheets and pillows beneath him, his teeth digging into his forearm to try and minimize any and all sound that might escape him. That just wouldn’t do, Thatch determined, adding a third finger to the mix as he curled them upward, aiming for the spot inside he knew would send Izo into an absolute fervor. The tattered remains of leftover mewls and whimpers Izo unleashed was akin to an absolute symphony to Thatch’s ears.  

 

  “I’m trying to get you as ready as possible, ‘Zo. I’m not trying to brag here or anything, but I really don’t want to hurt you, um, down there,” he said, his cheeks flooding with such shameful warmth as painful memories of past encounters from his youth floated to the surface.

 

  “I’ve seen you naked plenty of times before, Thatch. I know _exactly_ what it is that I’m getting myself into! I’ve been _dreaming_ about it. For fucks sake, I’m not some damsel, you needn’t waste hours on end just trying to open me up like some delicate flower. I’m a _man_ , we’ve established this, so go ahead and fuck me like one!”

 

  Thatch tittered at the other’s tenacity, intoxicated by his seemingly divine sense of prowess. “Very well then, but I warned you,” he said with the sweetest, most chaste of kisses to one of Izo’s slender shoulders.

 

  Thatch slicked his cock up the best he could, pleased by how used and abused Izo’s hole already looked, satisfied and riled up by the idea that he hadn’t even penetrated the other man beyond that of eager fingers and a famished tongue. The excitement that thrummed throughout his core only grew as he spread Izo’s thighs as far as they could go, pressing the head of his cock against Izo’s slackened hole.

 

  “Darling, if you don’t get a move on, we’ll both die of old age before consummating this relationship.”

 

  “So hasty,”’ he chided, but complied with the other’s whims, hoisting Izo up by his narrow hips so that he could place an extra pillow underneath the smaller man’s body to ease things along.

 

  “Such a gentleman,” Izo said with a huff of laughter, but Thatch could hear the silent gratitude weaved throughout each and every word.

 

  “Not for long,” Thatch promised, pressing the head of his already throbbing cock to the other man’s waiting hole, easing his way in as Izo was forced to adjust to the sizable length and girth. Izo cried out again, much louder this time as he bit down onto the pillow beneath him, his hips pressing back to meet Thatch’s pace.  

 

  Thatch loved that about Izo, the constant back and forth between them—the emotional sparring that often left them both acing for more. He loved that Izo could take and be taken; bloodied as well as the one doing the bloodying. The chef planned to make that beautifully lithe body of his scream its every harrowing truth within the throes of passion. Never one for silent lovers, he yanked back on Izo’s lustrous locks, studying such a wonderfully flushed expression as he filled him—inch by agonizing inch. The soft, almost breathless gasp that seized Izo’s lungs made Thatch’s heart leap and his balls tighten in the briefest of anticipations.

 

  “Oh, fuck!” Izo screamed, brows pinched together as Thatch bottomed out only to exit before driving right back in, skin slapping against skin as the elder of the two set a brutal pace. “ _Thatch_!”

 

  “This is what you wanted, right, ‘Zo?” he taunted with a rough, gruttal grunt, his broad chest pressed firm against the other’s delicate back, their bodies melding together, coated in sweat; intertwined in the most intimate of manners two people could ever possibly be.

 

  Izo could hardly answer; his head bowed, shoulders raised and spine arched as Thatch pounded ruthlessly into the tight confines of that wintry pale body. Enticed and drawn in by Izo’s serene beauty, he resolved to mark every stretch of that satin-like skin. His teeth tore through the flesh along the side of Izo’s long, slender neck with relative ease. An angry mark, deep and carmine in color blossomed like a rose dipped in blood, and soon there would be a bouquet of them. Thatch loved him, and that love would one day sear his flesh from his bones from its intensity alone.

 

  “Izo, you’re so _fucking_ beautiful,” he said, panting just so as he pressed a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss to the other’s heated cheek.

 

  Izo moaned as Thatch circled his hips, grinding into him as the pair continued to rock together. The trade off allowed Thatch to fill that sinful body all the way to the hilt, and the only thing he could think about was how beautiful Izo’s wrists and ankles would look bond together with red silk. The temptation lingered a breath far too long, and before Thatch could comprehend his own actions, he had already secured the silk tie from the other man’s kimono, gathering Izo’s arms behind his back. Izo let loose a soft gasp that keened into a low-pitched whine as Thatch tied his wrists together behind his back, leaving him entirely at Thatch’s mercy. It was a gift that kept on giving.

 

  “Is this good?”

 

  “ _Perfect_ ,” Izo said, moaning as Thatch slid almost all the way out before propelling his hips forward again, slamming all the way back in.

 

  Thatch groaned, a series of curses fleeing his lips as Izo clenched down around him. “You like being tied up, huh?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer, fucking into the pliant body beneath him without restraint or pause.

 

  Izo made a choked-off sort-of sound, struggling against his restraints as Thatch picked up the pace once again. There would be hand-shaped bruises across Izo’s hips for days to come, and Thatch couldn’t wait to relive them—to reap what he’d worked so hard to sow. “Touch me,” Izo pleaded, head thrown back as his back arched, arms flexing as he rocked his hips backwards. “Please.”

 

  Thatch couldn’t refuse a plea like that, even if he really wanted to, and no part of him wanted to. Izo must have been close, and Thatch knew that he wasn’t far off himself. He took Izo’s neglected cock in hand, stroking him to the rhythm he’d already set. The short, breathless little groans Izo choked out through gritted teeth were sexy in and of itself, but the closer he got to the edge, the louder and less reserved he became.

 

  “ _Fuck_ , Izo,” Thatch said, his own orgasm closing in around him as any and all coherent thought unraveled, thread by thread.

 

  Thatch continued to fuck into him, content to send them both over the precipice as he continued to jerk Izo off with one hand, the other still firmly secured in his hair. Izo came, hard and fast with a silent cry that Thatch swallowed up all for himself anyways, his balls contracting as he flooded Izo’s body with his own release. The world continued to spin all around them for a few, breathless moments.   


  “Oh, let me get you untied,” he said, struggling to think clearly still as he came down from the high that followed. “That was…”

 

  “Exceptional for a first time,” Izo huffed, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he stretched his arms and legs. “I’m looking forward to see what else you have to offer.”

 

  Thatch chuckled at that, taking Izo’s hands into his his own as he massaged his wrists with a gentle touch. “So, that would mean that there’s going to be a next time?” he asked, unable to meet Izo’s gaze just in case this all fell apart in the end.

 

  Izo made some sort of noise in the back of his throat, breaking free of Thatch’s hold as he brought the other man down to his level for an intoxicating kiss that had them both groaning, arousal trickling slowly back into their bones. “You’re frustrating to no end,” he said, wrapping his legs around Thatch’s waist as he lowered them both back down flat onto the bed.

 

  “I’m beginning to understand that, but just to make sure…”

 

  “Idiot, you’re mine do to with as I please from now on,” Izo said, giving Thatch all the reassurance he needed as they continued to make out with no sense of haste or hesitation.

 

  “Yes, sir.”  

 

  Thatch knew then that, no matter what were to happen in the future, near or far, his days were about to get a lot more interesting and a lot less lonely.

  
  


      

 

  

  

 

       

   

 

  

 

 


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